


put a ring on it

by twokisses



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Rings, IF YOU KNOW ME IRL I BEG OF YOU: DO NOT READ THIS, M/M, Riding, Sex Toys, So yeah, kinky but soft, my pals have told me this is kinky AND soft somehow, simon bottoms on top, there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twokisses/pseuds/twokisses
Summary: He's been on the edge for so long. It's good—it'sso good, it's taking him apart—but he doesn't know how much more of it he can take.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 20
Kudos: 206





	put a ring on it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/gifts).

> bc i had writer's block & pip has a delightful brain full of the ideas we all really need. this is totally their fault, and is wholly dedicated to them

He's about to explode. He's about to cry.

In an especially overwhelming instant, he considers the possibility that he might just die, and it'll all be Simon Snow's doing.

But then, he's always known that, hasn't he?

"Simon," Baz pleads, and it comes out as a whimper.

"Yeah." Simon's voice isn't much better off than his own—it's rough and breathy, weakened by exertion and pleasure. He's in Baz's lap, his hands on Baz's chest. His hair keeps falling into his eyes, concealing them every time he sits himself back down—hard—onto Baz's hips.

It's a shame, it's a terrible shame. Baz knows just how gorgeous Simon's eyes are when they're flushed with pleasure. So he reaches a hand up and pushes it into Simon's curls, pushes them back off Simon's forehead. Simon lets out a small hum and nuzzles his face into Baz's palm. He looks right at him as he does it.

And Baz was right. It's a good thing he already has a mattress at his back, because if he were standing, he'd probably fall over from the sight of Simon's eyes—pupils blown, glazed over, his eyelids drooping and fluttering as some sensation washes over him from where they're joined. Where currently, a band of vibrating silver metal is circling the base of Baz's cock.

Baz doesn't know what possessed Simon to get it in the first place. What overcame him to even _look_ for it.

_"I didn't know what I was looking for when I started searching!"_

_"So you were _browsing_?" _Baz was incredulous, but he couldn’t deny that he was also extremely hot from the thought of it—Simon, alone on his mobile, opening up a search for _sex toys_, scrolling through the pages of options and thinking about how he’d use them on Baz…

Baz lets out a choked sound as Simon leans down and switches something on the ring, making the vibrations climb up a notch in intensity. If he thought that the sensations a moment before this were the last things that would push him over into oblivion, he was sorely wrong. This is—

"Too much?" Simon breathes. His lips are suddenly at Baz's ear, his jaw, dragging down to his neck. Baz belatedly realises that Simon's hips have stopped moving up and down, but are now simply rocking in Baz's lap instead. Probably so as not to overwhelm Baz with too much, too quickly.

Baz is grateful. He's never felt anything like this before. There's a tight ball of heat and pleasure concentrated in his abdomen. It pushes against his hips, growing with every second that ticks by with that ridiculous ring buzzing against Baz's skin—and every time Baz thinks he can't hold on anymore, that he's surely going to be wracked now by the hardest orgasm he's ever had, the pleasure just _keeps building_.

He's been on the edge for so long. It's good—it's _so good_, it's taking him apart—but he doesn't know how much more of it he can take.

"Almost," he says, honestly. His voice is a tremulous thing, stretched out and shaking. But there's no pain in it, not yet—it's practically humming with pleasure. Simon moans into the skin of Baz's neck. It’s yet another vibration that sets Baz's nerves alight.

"Simon," he whispers. He feels the nip of teeth against one of the tendons stretching taut in his neck, and he gasps. _"Simon. Please."_

"Fuck," Simon mutters, dropping his forehead onto Baz's shoulder. He begins to move his hips more forcefully again. Baz grits out a moan.

Then he gasps, "More," and Simon makes a helpless sound, pushing himself back into an upright sitting position. Baz only has a moment to miss the warmth of his sweaty skin against his before Simon's back to working his hips up and down Baz's length, and everything but _yes, _and _good, _and _fuck, _is pushed out of his mind.

Simon's sounds are getting looser, less consistent, as he loses control of himself. When his face starts twisting up into a gentle grimace, Baz knows he's close. He intercepts the hand with which Simon's begun reaching for himself.

"Let me," he murmurs. Simon nods frantically. Then he groans when Baz gets a good grip on him and begins stroking him off in earnest. Baz doesn't bother going lightly—he knows Simon likes it like this.

"There we go," Baz encourages. His voice is hot, dripping. "Come on, love." Simon makes a desperate sound at that, and his hips stutter as he jerks himself forward, further into Baz's grip. "Yes, Simon—that's it. That's it."

It doesn't take too long. There's a moment, one moment in which a helpless cry works its way out of Simon's throat. But then he bites it down, cuts it off, and Baz's fist and stomach and chest are becoming streaked in white, and Baz is trying to concentrate on the sight of Simon—the muscles convulsing in his stomach, the way he's biting so hard into his lower lip the skin might just split—but he's becoming too overwhelmed by sensation himself, and he's looking at Simon without seeing him, and he's breathing, asking, pleading:

"Simon—Simon, fuck—please—"

His hands are on Simon's hips, urging them back into the steady rhythm that they stuttered out of when he came, but Simon makes a small sound of discomfort—of course he does, he's sensitive—and places his hands on Baz's to stop him. Baz does, instantly, even if it pains him to.

"One second, baby," Simon whimpers. "Just—just one second." His eyes are closed. Baz watches him, trembling, as he breathes deep a few times, his body easing itself through the aftershocks. And then once he seems mostly calm again, he lifts himself off of Baz's lap, and the small groan he lets out is nothing compared to Baz's.

Baz is aching. He feels wild, like he'd do anything now for some relief. Even the gentle sensation of Simon's warm fingers on the base of his cock, brushing it as he works to get the ring off of him, is almost too much. Baz whimpers loudly once the band of metal snaps open and falls away, and he's _almost there_. He's right there.

Simon is looking up at him from between his thighs, blue eyes big and adoring and looking a little drunk off arousal.

"What do you want, Baz?"

The question almost—almost—tips Baz over. But he sets his jaw and stills his hips, so there's not even a slight motion that could possibly make him come. He wants Simon to make him do it. He's held himself back this long—he can do it for a few more moments.

He tries to get his brain in order to answer Simon.

"You," he says, first, which is not helpful, and Simon's soft breath of laughter feels too good on his burning skin. His cock twitches. "Your—your mouth," he gasps, arching. "On me. Simon—"

And then his voice falls away into a wordless sound that shakes and rips its way out of him, because Simon's sunk his mouth down around Baz's length, and that ball of heat in his stomach is suddenly, blissfully—almost painfully—releasing, in a hard rush that whites out all of his thoughts.

He's distantly aware that he's shaking, hips bucking up of their own accord, fingers curling desperately into Simon's hair and tugging so hard a small part of his brain—one that's amazingly unoccupied by pure pleasure—worries that it's hurting him. But if Simon's low moans around his cock are anything to go by, he's fine. It's fine. (It's too fucking good.)

Baz crashes back down to Earth a moment later. He's gasping hard, like he's just run a marathon (a _few _marathons, however many it takes to actually wind a vampire), and his hips are still twitching violently in the aftermath—Simon has slung an arm across his abdomen to keep him still as he works him through it. Baz just lets him go.

"Fuck," Simon breathes eventually, pulling off of Baz's cock. Baz whimpers quietly at the loss of his mouth. Simon smooths his hands over the backs of Baz's thighs soothingly.

Baz's eyes are shut, but he hears the concern in Simon's voice clearly when he asks, "Baz, are you alright?"

Baz blinks his eyes open slowly—it takes a bit of effort—and looks down his body at Simon's face. There are a mixture of things that he finds there (not _physical _things, although there might be a smudge of Baz's come at the edge of his mouth)—there's a large helping of burnt-out lust, a bit of surprise, and definitely a pinch of worry.

"What?" Baz breathes. His brain still isn't at a hundred percent yet. He smooths his fingers through Simon's curls, slow and slightly apologetically. "Of course. Of course I am. Why would you say that?"

"Well—" Simon blushes. "That was—I mean, I've never seen you come that hard. I was just wondering—"

"It was good," Baz says, quickly. He lets out a breathless laugh. "Crowley. Simon, that was amazing. It was probably the best orgasm I've ever had."

Simon smiles shyly at that, and dips his head to hide it. Baz finds it ridiculously endearing. He lets one of his hands trail down from Simon's curls to slide against his cheek—and also to get at that drop of come Simon hasn't noticed on his lip—when Simon shifts his arm and jumps, and Baz follows him by reflex.

"What—"

Simon laughs and shakes his head, and a moment later he lifts the cock ring up in his hand for Baz to see. They didn't turn it off earlier—it's still buzzing furiously. Simon flicks it off with his thumb, then rests his cheek on Baz's thigh and lets his hand fall against Baz's stomach.

"Not a bad investment, hmm?" Simon mumbles. He's looking at Baz, a sleepy, soft look in his eyes and a little smile curving one side of his mouth up. Baz shakes his head at him slightly, also grinning, and lets his head fall back against the pillow.

"No," he breathes. "Not bad at all."

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! check out my other stuff on my [tumblr](https://sbazzing.tumblr.com/).


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